Come Full Circle

Three years ago in October my cousin mentioned to my mom that her friend, Amanda, knew a guy that she thought might be a good match for me.  The two of them both attended a larger contemporary church in the area that I’d never been to, but I was curious and eager to meet a guy at church instead of at a bar, or online.

Despite my shy, introverted ways, I agreed to meet Amanda in the parking lot and attend the service with her. She was very kind and friendly and so I felt more at ease in going in to be a part of the service.  Afterwards, she motioned to the left side of the worship center to point out a young man around my age standing and talking to some other congregants.  We made our way over and Amanda introduced me.  He was very good looking and I was pleased that she thought that we’d make a good match.

However, the encounter quickly turned to awkward as he was clearly not interested in what I had to say; looking over my head and across the room towards someone else, as though he was seeking a way out.  I followed his gaze and found that a buddy of his was making his way towards us and so this clean cut, Christian guy, turned to me and said, “nice to meet you” and turned and walked around me to greet his friend.

I was shocked and quite frankly a little hurt, and when I looked to Amanda, I could tell that she didn’t expect our interaction to be cut off so abruptly either.  Her smile was that of an apology and so she guided me towards another small group of individuals my age towards the back of the room.  There she introduced me to two people who were instrumental in helping to build my faith back up.  Brooke and Jason were “leaders” in a 20-somethings Bible study and they both offered warm greetings and invited me to attend their group the following night.  I graciously accepted their offer and soon found myself embraced by a group of vastly different, but God-loving people, and the sting that I felt that first Sunday quickly dissipated as I never saw that guy again.

Jump forward to October 13th of this year.  I had participated in The Color Run the day before and wasn’t certain if I’d still look like a human Easter egg, so I planned to attend church as a member of the congregation instead of standing up front, interpreting (American Sign Language).  A friend of mine wasn’t feeling well and planned to sit towards the back, in case she needed to leave in a hurry, so I told her I’d sit with her.  Luckily most of the color had worn off from the previous day, but my legs and feet were still a bit spotted.  After the first couple of opening songs, the congregation was encouraged to greet one another.  I stood and shook the hands of those seated on either side and behind me, and when I turned around, there stood the guy who I was introduced to that first day, nearly three years before.  He looked good.  I shook his hand, trying to hide my alarm at his presence and, proceeded to shake the hands of others standing next to him and quickly took my seat.

The closing song was one of my favorites, You Are Holy, but also one that contains both female and male voices singing different lyrics.  This is impossible to interpret solo, so I excused myself from my seat and joined the interpreter up front, who sighed greatly at seeing me come forward.  We knocked out the song and I headed back to my seat as the pastor gave the benediction.  Everyone’s heads were bowed except for the young man who had gruffly brushed me aside previously.  He watched me walk up the side aisle, and as I did so, something in his face changed as he appeared to have recognized me. He nodded a hello with a smile that reflected something like the one that Amanda had given me as an apology.  I smiled back and nodded as well, as if to say, “it’s okay”.  As I passed approached his row, I glanced at his left hand that rested on the seat in front of him.  No ring.

When we were dismissed, I began chatting with my friend, asking if she was feeling any better, when I felt a hand of my arm.  I looked up into his face and he said quietly, “It was nice to see you”.  I smiled and did my best not to turn about 1,500 shades of red as I said, “Likewise”.  He smiled and was gone.  I snickered to myself and my friend asked what was funny.  I just shook my head as I thought to myself how interesting it was that my original intent of attending this church was to meet a man, and now three years later, I’m still single, but I come to the same church only focusing on worshiping God and find that very same man, much more humble this time around.